Diaries of the Damned and Demented Vol 1: Survive or Die
by Storyteller222
Summary: On this world, one that has long since fallen into that of terrors and horrors alike, tales of those that remain and survive are gathered for the sake of there being some form of preservation. What the world once was is lost, tragically, but what remains must be kept alive somehow, someway.
1. Entry 1

**AN: _Hello everyone, welcome to this anthology of volumes all set in a world that has gone terribly wrong. Each volume will have a subtitle that serves as an overarching theme and descriptor for the volume itself. We sincerely hope you enjoy what you are about to see._**

 _ **I appreciate any offers of help but please be aware of your critiques; the best reception has something constructive to offer while the worst offers nothing useful.**_

 **Disclaimer:** _ **This series of anthologies were inspired by Max Brooks's**_ **World War Z** _ **and the setting, Creature Feature, is the product of RoyalPsycho on deviantART and is being used with his permission. All recognizable characters and concepts belong to the fictions they originate from and those that own the copyright to those fictions. Their interpretations and presentation in the context of this work, however, are best attributed to being under reference primarily.**_

* * *

 **Diaries of the Damned and Demented**

An Oral History of the Waking Nightmare That Replaced Earth

 _Vol. 1: Survive or Die_

* * *

 _The following records have been gathered together in private agreement of those involved. This collection of live accounts is the first of many and hopefully never the only._

 _The purpose of this, and all future installments, is to leave a record for any future generations, successors, or others with some conceptual idea of what the world currently is._

 _And thus, this volume of diaries is where it all began; all because of an AI that wanted to know and learn more. While the intention is questionable – especially given the history and allegiances based around the first gatherer – what has been provided is nearly invaluable and gives us, all of us, an idea of what can be done._

 _Should oblivion come, by the Gozerian, by the opening of Hobbs's End, or by anything else, let these stories remain so that there be something left…_

* * *

 **Log Date: 11/05/18*. Location: Former Department of Scientific Intelligence Facility.**

 **I had encountered my first sentient, living, and relatively non-hostile subject in what was a science facility's offices. Mind you, this didn't change the fact that our initial meeting saw her using her mental abilities to conquer fire and she was fairly unfriendly. Had I still been in my failing human body, and not this T-1001, I would be more cautious of the heat. Thankfully, this changed after she gave me a chance to explain myself, why I was in this facility, and what my name was.**

 **Currently, we're sitting in one of the remaining offices and this one was fortunately abandoned of any bodies. She – having introduced herself as McGee to me before – is sitting directly across from myself and fidgets slightly with her old looking bag. After I was composed, I looked towards her and initiated the conversation.**

 ** _So, psychic abilities?_**

You're a man whose mind is housed inside of a body made of liquid metal. A body that was made and given to you by an AI that once was a defense military program. How's that any more unbelievable than what I can do?

 ** _Fair enough. Why were you at this facility then? Is this a part of that rumor that the former government did experiments with psychic abilities?_**

 **(She glares at me. I feel a slight temperature increase.)** It's not a rumor. It's a _fact_. I spent a fair portion of my life trying to avoid an agency trying to use me for weapons research. If it wasn't for the world going insane, I probably would have been in a place like this and been used for who knows what. **(She simmers slightly, reaching to a handmade charm around her neck. At first, I think it's a white cross – a common tool against some of the creatures that roam about if my memory serves. However, it's actually in the shape of a white queen chess piece.)**

 ** _That's a curious charm you've got there. What is it?_**

This? **(She holds up the piece and I nod.)** This is the White Queen's symbol. Those of us that were found by her or one of the others, taken in by her, and provided something greater than any one of us could have on our own. I thought I was a freak, that being able to control people's minds, hear their thoughts, have visions of the future, and move things or set them on fire worked to ruin my life. Considering the people that were after me only wanted because of my powers and killed both my parents because of it, I was kind of right. **(Her lips curve upward slightly, the hints of a smile starting to appear.)** But then, she found me. She found me in the dead of night, cold and alone, and she managed to change everything.

 ** _What did she do?_**

The same thing she did to everyone else that's "unique" like I am, that's alone. She gave us someone who has powers, someone who can do things with their mind or can see things that regular people can't. I found a new family with her and the other psychics she'd found and was finding. We even got our own little niche in this twisted world whenever we're not running around – a place everyone like us can call home.

 ** _Witch Mountain, right?_**

Yeah, heh. **(She chuckles lightly, brushing some blonde hair out of her face.)** It's kind of funny in hindsight. A bunch of people who have these powers, the type of people some government agency wants to use for whatever reason. And where do they wind up? What place do they call home? A place that used to be a government facility in the East Coast. I'll admit, it's a bit suspect, but considering the alternative is wandering around alone, it's a utopia.

 ** _If you have a haven, then why are you so far out here?_**

Simple, if we stay in the same place then we won't know anything more outside of it. It's best to scout and look around, investigate possibilities that may prove useful. It's how the White Queen found some of us – hell, it's what lead her to looking for me after all. It'd be heartless and hypocritical to leave anyone like us feeling alone or abandoned.

 ** _So it's apart of your nomadic lifestyle? Going out and looking for other 'unique' people?_**

Pretty much. I guess it's something we've adopted after what she's done for us. Considering what she's been through, I can imagine her deciding to look out for us.

That caught my attention. McGee had, up until this point, treated this enigmatic White Queen with a degree of reverence. She must have known more than she was letting on. I decided to push forward, although this may end with me on fire.

 ** _Oh? What do you mean by that?_**

Hmmm?

 ** _You just mentioned that this "White Queen" has been through a traumatic experience herself. Was she pursued by a government agency like you were?_**

 **McGee seemed hesitant, and I also expected that she'd start roasting me, but instead she took hold of the queen piece again and closes her eyes. It was fairly solemn by all accounts.**

I'm not going to say any of this definitely. Not because it's a traumatic experience she's been through, but because it's her past and her past alone. All I'm going to say is that the White Queen got her name for a reason. Not just because she cared about us, but it came from somewhere. **(She opened her eyes, despite a blue color, they were like looking into embers.)** And it isn't because she's some kind of monarch.

 ** _Then, what is the reason?_**

 **(Her mouth twitched for a moment.)** Once, I found this private room of her's. Don't ask me where it is, or how I found it, the point is I did find it and it was different. There was this cross on a wall, but beyond it there were all these pictures of random people and I got claustrophobic. Like they were all looking at me, even though they weren't there. And then, then there's this display case. **(She stops, shivering slightly.)** In it, there was this musty looking old brown dress, a dirty old sash and some kind of tiara on the figure's head. Just by looking at it, I can feel so many things from it. I can… **(She stopped again, looking bothered.)** I could hear these voices. There were some words, but what I remember is a bunch of laughter that then turned into these screams of terror and panic.

 **McGee stopped once again, but whatever this was it seemed to really have an effect on her. Was this a result of her abilities?**

 ** _Maybe… maybe she had a bad day?_**

 **(Looks sternly at me, as if I said something stupid.)** A "bad day"? I never had a normal 'life' exactly, Noah. But even I can tell that whatever the White Queen suffered through, it's a wonder that she managed to recover from it. My parents are dead, I was hunted until the world went insane and then she found me. And yet, despite what I've been through, even I know that she must have suffered something worse. I don't know what exactly, quite frankly I don't even want to know. I never went back into that room, or even looked in its direction. **(I can see smoke starting to rise from the desk we've been sitting at. I notice McGee's fingers digging in and scorching the surface.)** It's because of terrible shit like that, we go out and try to find others. They shouldn't be forced to suffer anything like I, or the White Queen, or anyone else just because of their powers.

 **I back my seat away from the desk slightly. A thought enters my mind, a strange one, but given how passionate McGee has been, and what this White Queen sounds like, it wouldn't hurt to ask.**

 ** _Well, have you or any of the others considered trying to-_**

No. The answer is no, not, and _never_.

 **I should have stopped there, but I was caught off guard by that and the words tumbled out of my mouth.**

 ** _B-But I didn't even finish-_**

Even if I can't read your mind, I know what you were about to say regardless. You were going to 'suggest' that we try and do something about the Dunwich, or the Monolith Monsters, or the Morlocks, or whatever the fuck else is out there. Was that it? **(I hesitantly nod my head, feeling intimidated.)** Why should any of us risk our necks after being so oppressed by everyone else? I spent the early years of my life getting hunted by some Government Agency and now the Government wants my help to figure out what's going on in Derry? Fuck that. And- **(She abruptly freezes mid-sentence, the scorching stops as does the smoke. I hesitantly approach her.)**

 ** _McGee?_**

 **She sat there, her eyes dim and lifeless. This soon changed when she rose out of her seat, backpack slung over her shoulder, and moved towards the door.**

I've got to go, Noah. The White Queen needs me. **(She stops at the door and looks back to me, her eyes return back to being like embers.)** If you want some advice, then take heed of this warning. Mind yourself, and you'll survive. If you don't, then you will die.

 **She then opened the door and left without a second word. It'd be later that I'd learn (and figure out) that this White Queen she mentioned sent her a message telepathically and wanted her to investigate a rumor. Specifically, some man and his lawnmower. I never did meet her again, but I knew one thing.**

 **Always tread carefully whenever speaking with a psychic. Even if they can't read your mind, they can roast you alive.**


	2. Entry 2

**Log Date: 30/06/18*. Location: Lexington, Kentucky.**

 **It's been a difficult month or so. I've lately had to cross through the Candar Empire and a variant of the undead – Deadites I believe they're called – have been not only rude but fairly annoying. Still, it's thanks to this body of mine that butchering them or any other demon that tries to prey on me hasn't been that difficult. So far, it seems that I'm beneath their ruler's notice. Maybe it's because I've not a living being, maybe it's because Skynet technically is my ruler, I don't know.**

 **However, the more pressing concern I was faced with as I trekked through the North East was a gelatinous creature that was 50 meters large and consumed everything organic it came across. And I do mean everything: there have been long stretches of barren lands complete with dead trees and bare shrubs. Fortunately, I've managed to avoid any close encounters with this entity and successfully made it to what used to be Lexington, Kentucky.**

 **And then, well, I found myself meeting the only person ever since I passed through Candar that wasn't a cultist or possessed. She was young, had a petite body, and seemed to be no worse for wear physically… until I saw her eyes. They were a pair of cold, dead gray orbs that someone of her appearance wouldn't have.**

 **It was after some minor conversation that she agreed to be interviewed at the ruins of an old café. We sat down outside and, once I was ready, began.**

 ** _So, Miss, how-_**

Hope.

 _ **Excuse me?**_

My name. It's not Miss, just Hope. Sorry, people tend to assume or call me something else whenever I speak with them. **(She has this uneasy smile on her face, but it seemed disingenuous.)** You'd think I'd get used to it by now, but I-I'd like to have someone know my name.

 ** _Alright then._ Hope _how did you to Lexington? Did you follow that gelatinous mass's trail?_**

Yeah. It seemed the most direct route in all this and I could use a break; it's still a bit too recent after all. I guess I should be happy that I got a break and all, but maybe it's just me being difficult… **(She seemed to contemplate something.)** Nah, I don't even know how that thing works anyway. I'm better off sticking to my plan.

 ** _Your plan?_**

Yeah. Go westward and hit Nebraska, or whatever they're calling it these days. By the time I get there, I should be ready. Though if that rumor about feeding random people to corn is true or not. I suppose I'll know when I get there. **(She looked to me, yet her eyes still seemed hollow.)** Have you ever been to Nebraska?

 **I had actually avoided Nebraska after leaving Zero One. P** **artially because of the lavalantulas, being made of liquid metal m** **ade encounters with those creatures a death sentence, and then the annoying giants running amuck. However, one of the reasons I had for avoiding Nebraska was the strange information Skynet had on it. Something about a cult that worshiped corn stalks.**

 _ **I afraid not, Hope. There were too many dangers around that area; made it too difficult for me to reach it. Why are you going to Nebraska?**_

 **(She looked at me with a vacant look. Her disingenuous smile returned.)** What's your name again?

This was odd because I introduced myself to her before. But I shook it off and resumed.

 ** _It's Noah. Now-_**

Have you ever heard of Hobb's End, Noah?

 **Thanks to my body's data-link with Skynet, I do have access to Skynet's database and that included some information from before the world went insane and some satellite images. However, in the few** **seconds it took for me to search, I didn't get a single result back.**

 _ **Uh, no. What does that-**_

It's in New England, or whatever New England is now. It was a small town, a bit rural in some places, but still like anywhere else in America. I remember having fun summers in the lake when I was young, back when I was with my parents and things seemed to be fine. **(She brushes her brunette hair back, yet she still had that vacant look in her eyes.)** It'd be nice to see it again.

 **This was kind of interesting, but didn't answer my question.**

 ** _Well, that sounds nice but-_**

Have you ever read Sutter Cane, Noah?

 **Okay, getting interrupted more than once was rude. Not answering my questions answered? Rather impolite. Besides, even not using the data-link, I know that this "Sutter Cane" wouldn't be anyone I've ever heard of.**

 ** _No. Why?_**

 **(Disingenuous smile grows slightly.)** He's an author. He'd spend time at Hobb's End every now and then to write his newest book. I think there was a rumor that he had strong ties to Hobb's End. I wasn't old enough to really read his books, but I knew he was important. Just like Hobb's End was supposed to be. It didn't turn out that way, though. It's a shame because it was a nice day. **(She stops to ponder something.)** I wonder if he ever saw me. I remember seeing him once, clacking away on that typewriter. I was with the other kids when he worked on his last book. It was supposed to be really big, if I remember correctly, like it'd change the world when it was finished big. I was could have read it.

 **I'm losing my patience.**

 ** _Hope. What does this have to do with Nebraska? And, if this "Hobb's End" place actually existed, then why are you in Kentucky?_**

This seemed to draw her attention. There was some vibrancy that returned to her eyes, although she seemed slightly offended by what I just said.

I'm getting to it, _Noah_. **(She said my name with a scowl.)** I don't remember exactly what happened that day. I do remember that Sutter Cane was finishing his last book, the big one. I remember going to him with the other children, but something happened. I remember hearing Sutter Cane screaming in anguish at one point, and then… **(she seemed pain by the memory)** t-then I don't know what else. I think I saw my parents. But I remember waking up outside of where Hobb's End should be. And no matter what I tried, or did, I could never get back. And then, then that's when _it_ started.

 ** _It?_**

Yes, _it_. I wandered for a bit, uncertain and unsure of what to do. I was still a kid and my head was confused. Somehow, I wound up getting taken in by this couple for no real reason. I wound up doing well for a time, practically adopted into their family. I missed my real parents in Hobb's End, but hey, New Jersey wasn't that bad really. But, then, things got sour. **(She shivers slightly.)** See, their son Ryan did a terrible thing. You wouldn't think it's terrible, but in that part of New Jersey it was taboo along with other certain stuff. He suffered for it, he and his friends.

 ** _What happened to them?_**

They died. They were all killed because he and that blonde couldn't keep their hormones under control. I saw him do it though. **(She physically stiffens.)** He wore this mask, it had holes on it but I couldn't really see his eyes through the eye holes. If it's quiet enough, I can hear their screams and cries for pain. They weren't that quick, but fairly brutal anyway.

 **Based on what she's said, somehow she wound up at Crystal Lake. Rumor had it that it was run by this mad woman who had this insane set of rules. After she died, though, her son apparently came back from the dead to enforce them. For Hope to have survived him, however, is interesting and that I would like to know.**

 ** _So, how did you escape?_**

I didn't.

 **What?**

 ** _What do you mean?_**

I told you, I didn't. I thought he was going to kill me, but then he… decided not to I guess. He just stomped away while dragging the bodies with him. I remember throwing a rock at the back of his head, but he didn't even notice it. He just left me there, alone. I screamed at him, "you fucking bastard! Don't you dare do this to me! Don't you dare!" Nothing. I laid there for a bit, and then left myself. I decided to leave Crystal Lake, so I stole Ryan's old bike and left. Still, though, it wasn't over.

 ** _How so?_**

I don't know how to best explain it, but wherever I went after Crystal Lake, whoever I met and befriended or joined up with, there'd be this pattern. We'd be a small group, relatively a few people like four or five, and then… then they'd die or something would happen to them. I'd be the only one left and I'd suffer. **(she closed her eyes and adopted a solemn tone.)** No matter where I went, or who I met, they would die and I would be spared only to suffer again. People would just assume what my name is, I'd been given plenty of names by different people I'd met, and then those people would die. Didn't what I tried to do, they'd just die.

 **By now, I was starting to realize what she was talking about. Or at least, figure out the full 'picture' of everything. With a great deal of caution and hesitation, I phrase my next question carefully.**

 ** _Do you want to die, Hope?_**

She didn't answer immediately. There was a small period of silence that was scarcely broken by the wind's doing. It felt like forever until she finally gave me an answer.

I don't know what I want, Noah. **(The smile was gone, and yet her eyes seemed haunted and hollow.)** I don't know if I even can die. I managed to get inside of Springwood. I went to bed every night, didn't stay up or do anything to prevent it. I wanted to dream that I would be freed, and yet it happened again. Taken in, a new name, and then a group of people that I grew close with, despite not wanted to, all died. **(she hung her head, closing her eyes as a solemn atmosphere came in.)**

 **This was… rather disturbing. I can't imagine all the people she's met only to later watch them die. How long has this been happening?**

You asked me why I'm going to Nebraska, and the reason why is because I'm tired of reliving the same chain of events. Maybe whatever goes on there can free me from what I'm stuck with. Maybe it'll be another failure and I'd just wasted my time. I don't know, and honestly, I don't really care anymore.

 ** _Then why are you letting me interview you?_**

Because, as Sutter Cane once said, _"reality is just what we tell each other it is."_ If, by some sheer luck, maybe there never was a Hobb's End and I'm just delusional. If that saying of his has any weight, by leaving you with this interview, I'll get the release I want. If not, then I'll have to try again. If the universe has any shred of kindness to it, it'll give me a mercy kill. **(she leaned in close, an almost insane look in her eyes.)** That is why I'm going to Nebraska, Noah. Nowhere else and no one else, but me.  
 **  
It was only a few hours later that, in hindsight, it occurred to me that I should have offered an assisted suicide. However, that psychosis she displayed – and based on what she told me – I'm fairly certain that she would have rejected it. Someone like that, that has a literal death wish, wants to die in a very specific manner. If I had to guess, she wants someone else to be the last one left. She wants someone to kill her like they killed other people. Nothing special and nothing else.**

 **Makes me wonder about the human psyche sometimes…**


	3. Entry 3

**Log Date: 05/08/18*. Location: The Red Craven, Greensboro, North Carolina.**

 **To be honest, this is the first time I've ever been in a bar. Back in Zero One, and as a Gray, we didn't have such a commodity in our settlements. In fact, I'm fairly certain that Skynet itself doesn't even know (or care) what alcohol is. Still, I'm sitting inside of this ramshackle of a building only exists to provide beer to people passing through. One of them, in this case, is the next person I'm interviewing.**

 **This person, nursing down one of the Red Craven's homebrewed cocktails, is what's called a Freelancer. Freelancers are people that are contracted to do virtually any job as long as they are paid for their services. Despite a well-toned physique, their greyed hair gives an older impression.**

 **Regardless, my subject motions for me to sit on the other end of a booth. Taking a swig from their glass, the Freelancer also slides a shot glass in my direction.**

 **While appreciative of the gesture, I ignore the glass and instead begin recording.**

 **(lowers glass.)** Getting a brew after a job can really hit the spot, y'know? It's real refreshing, but you wouldn't know that, given that body of yours. What it like being made of liquid metal, anyway? Is water a real bitch to deal with? Or is your biggest fear getting frozen?

 _ **I fail to see how this is relevant.**_

Heh. Did that AI scrub your sense of humor, too? Or is that a carryover from when you were flesh and blood? I'm just messing with you is all, Noah. Lighten up! Nothing's gonna kill us in here! **(swig's from glass)** Only thing we'd have to worry about here is closing time or them running out of inventory. Really think they should franchise though; save a lot of us trouble of having to wait after a job's done.

 _ **How can you be so jovial? I thought Freelancing was a highly risky and very stressful service.**_

 **(finishes glass, orders another cocktail with hand gestures.)** Oh, it is. Even though the jobs we're hired to do range from simple to long, they're never easy and always have some kind of catch. A guy I knew, Crowley, had to leave Louisiana and go all the way out to Northern Mexico. Government needed recon work on what was going on there; some people they sent went missing. He did it, and then got up to his ass in spiders and webbing after that. He's just lucky some of the Sawyers were on a harvest run or he'd be dead! **(server comes by and drops off another cocktail, switching it with the empty glass.)** He's probably never gonna leave the bayou after that; hell I don't blame him. I had a job up at this place, Aperture Laboratories, got paid to get some records after the facility walled itself off and went dark. I managed to bust in, wasn't easy. Getting out? **(she scoffs, reaching for her cocktail.)** Lot of crazy ass shit there – an AI called GLADOS ran the entire place. Obsessed over doing experiments with the people there, trust me though - they're hardly worthwhile.

 **Aperture Science, according to Skynet's database, had a theoretical portal technology and a fairly insane founder. Curious that was mentioned out of everything else; I would have thought doing espionage would hardly be important towards someone of their infamy. Speaking of which…**

 _ **I have a question, why the name?**_

 **(drinks from glass)** Hmm?

 _ **The name – the Shape. Why that name? Is this something that Freelancers do professionally or personally?**_

Oh, heh, I should have figured you'd ask about that. Lot of power in a name, or a rep. **(drinks from cocktail.)** It's the best way to get business after all, hell sometimes it's the _only_ way to get business.

 _ **If this is personal, you don't have to-**_

No, it's not. Well, it kind of is – okay, it's complicated. See, for some of us we take this names – the Shape, the Phantom, the Mannequin, the Cop – to give us this shield. This shield that protects us from how fucked up our jobs are and the crap we've got to face each time someone needs us to do something. Going out and having to look for shit isn't even the half of it, and even then there's usually more on top of whatever we're supposed to find.

 _ **What do you mean?**_

 **The Shape gets annoyed and, with little hesitation, reaches into a sack to pull something out before slamming it onto the table. I give the object a curious glance; it's some kind of golden cube with black lines and markings. It seems more like a puzzle box of some kind.**

 _ **What's that?**_

It's what my latest job got me. A man, Winter I think he's called, paid me a fine amount to go and get it. Said it belong to his family or something and that, heh, that almost made me reject his offer. Still, wasn't the first time I'd be paid to go grab something, so I took him up on it and he gave me a picture so that I knew what to look out for. I had to deal with a lot of other people interested in it though.

 _ **What do you mean?**_

The Candar for starters, and then there was that Void Cult and the Dunwich. They all wanted it for whatever reason, someone about a portal or summoning else. Thankfully they were more interested in killing each other than they were in killing me, so I managed to escape. **(she glares at it.)** It's still pretty damn noisy though.

 _ **I'm not hearing anything from it.**_

 **(she gives me a look that makes me feel like I said something stupid.)** Yeah, I figured that seeing how you're not really human anymore. See, this thing? **(she points to it and I nod.)** Ever since I got it far away from those crazy assholes, I keep hearing this call or lure. This compulsion to mess with the damn thing and try to solve it. I have a damn good feeling that, if anyone does, some crazy kind of shit is gonna happen. The fact that all those zealots wanted it is a clear giveaway that whatever this is, it's nothing good.

 **I look to the puzzle box again and consider what I've just been told. That's a fairly reasonable assessment, especially given my own encounter with the Candar. Additionally, given the implications and rumors around the other two, it makes for a fairly terrifying encounter.**

 _ **How come you're able to resist?**_

 **I'm not given an immediate answer. There's a minute of silence as I see, for a moment, the face of my subject hardens stoically and all emotion fades away like a mask. I think I understand now why that name – the Shape – was chosen.**

If this was years before, I'd just count it to luck. But that's not how it works, not after I was "killed" **(she makes air quotes.)** the first time. I would have shrugged that off too, but there was a man – he explained everything.

 _ **What did he say?**_

 **(after a brief period of silence, something appears in her eyes. They've gone cold by now, but still.)** Remember how I mentioned that Winter's little bit on family almost made me drop his offer? **(I nod slowly.)** See, for a long time, I had this psychotic urge to kill my brother and sister. I never understood why, but that man explained it to me – told me how I have this Thorn Curse. As long any member of my family still lives, I can't die and will be forced to try and kill them. That's why I'm able to resist this damn box. **(she stops to growl at it. Could it be irritating her?)**

 _ **If you don't mind me asking, when was the last time you saw them?**_

Fuck if I know. I cut off from them after I almost chopped Michael's head off using an ax. It's why I became a Freelancer and _never_ looked back. Hopefully, where ever they are, they're doing fine enough in this world we're all stuck in and Michael can protect them. Cause if he can't, and they die, I'll be dead soon after or worse.

 _ **What makes you say that?**_

 **(leans in close.)** Cause Hemingway said it best, " _The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good, and the very gentle, and the very brave, impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure that it will kill you too, but there will be no special hurry."_ _That_ is what's important to remember, not just being a Freelancer but living in this kind of world. It doesn't matter who you are, what you are, or what you call yourself, it doesn't matter. You either get broken into shards and then die, or you die anyway. Somehow, someway, one day you are going to die. And if you're lucky, it'll just be that simple.

 **I decided to end the interview there. If what she was saying is true, then she's probably impossible to kill unless someone was able to eliminate her relatives. I'd rather not be in her path while that puzzle box is making her more aggressive. Ultimately, before we parted, I asked her what her name is and she told me.**

" **It's Cynthia." She said simply, "Cynthia Myers."**

* * *

 _We are fortunate that Noah, after going through what remained of the United States, left behind his recordings before heading outwards into the unknown. We, his successors roughly, will remain grateful for his original work though do still question intention and character. To this day, his fate remains unknown, but hopefully whatever end he reached is a swift and merciful one._

 _Amen._


End file.
